A Leap of Faith
by Lauretta92
Summary: AU-Story. Molly Dawes is a fresh new police constable for the MET, only six months on the job. When she gets a call of a public disturbance her life is turned upside down. She's thrown into a dangerous operation, working together with the handsome Detective Chief Inspector James and his team. Will they survive this or is this going to leave the deadly scars everyone is afraid off?
1. Chapter 1

**Hello again!**

**I know it's been a while, but I have been so busy with school and everything that I simply didn't have the time to write. And for this story I had to do a lot of more research than for my last story, so I hope you don't mind. **

**This is something different than the stories that are posted in the "Our Girl" fanfic base, and I really hope you like it.**

**Enjoy! :) **

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><p>The sounds of the London traffic was interrupting the silence that reigned in the car. Molly moved the police car around road paving, eventually hitting the brake when the traffic light turned the bright colour of red.<p>

"So what did you do last night?", Katy asked her friend from the passenger's seat. She had met Katy on her first day at the police academy. They hit it off straight away and discovered that they had more in common than she initially thought. Molly looked at the blonde police constable sitting next to her, smiling cheekily, like she had done something bad last night and was too embarrassed to say it. When Katy saw her response she said, the same cheeky smile on her face: "No, you didn't!"

"I needed it."

"I can't believe you've slept with him." Her words were followed by laughter. "Again!", she said, the disbelieve of the whole situation present in her voice.

"Well", Molly said, making the appropriate motions with her hand to support her words. "He ain't the worst."

"Really?"

"I've had better, you know."

A disgusted look appeared on Katy's face. "Right, just leave it at that."

Molly chuckled, turning into first gear when the traffic light produced a green colour and slowly moving the car forward. She had met Chris Ingrams on the day she started training to become a police constable. Of course, she couldn't deny that there was something there, not that it was some sort of chemistry she had heard about, but it wasn't exactly what she deep down desired from a relationship. So she and Chris had decided that they would occasionally hook up when they felt like it, but that they weren't in a relationship. They were sort of "friends with benefits", like the movie with Justin Timberlake and Mila Kunis.

She wasn't ready to be in a serious relationship just yet. She loved her ex-boyfriend Artan very much and really thought he was the one. Mr. Right like they called it in the books or movies, but it turned out be farther from the truth. He had been cheating on her ever since they started dating and her announcement for joining the police force was the final straw. It was the end of them.

"Units stand by", the voice of the dispatcher interrupted her thoughts. "There have been several calls about a public disturbance in the Victoria Place shopping centre. One of the Sainbury employee's called, saying that the suspect stole some food and got aggressive when the manager pointed it out."

The lightness of their previous conversation was forgotten, now being solely focussed on the dispatcher. "One of shop workers has him restrained, so we can take him into custody."

Katy got the radio out of the stand while pushing the button on the right side. "This is Sierra Nine mark us en route."

Molly hit the gas, accelerating the speed of the car, while moving the car on the dark asphalt. Katy put the sirens on, indicating that they were on the way to something serious. After a short journey they arrived ten minutes later at the Victoria Place shopping centre, parking the car on the pavement.

They made their way towards the entrance, quickly glancing at the map to find the supermarket before they made their way towards the scene. Her hand was firmly on the baton that was attached to her belt, manoeuvring through the crowd that had gathered in the shopping centre. After passing several stores they arrived at the supermarket.

Something in the background caught her eye, something that was out of the ordinary. There, with her back against the shop wall, her knees pulled to her chest by her arms, sat a young girl. The lively colour of her hair was taken from the rest of the world, hidden behind a colourful head-scarf. But there was one thing that gave away the emotion of the girl; it were her eyes. She looked at Molly, fear being the only thing displayed in a mixture of different shades of dark brown, which was probably caused by the amount of tears still present on her face and in her eyes.

"Katy, can you take the suspect? I'm gonna have a talk with the girl", Molly said, her colleague simply responded with a nod. She slowly walked over to the girl, kneeling down next to her.

"Hello, sweetie. I'm Molly, what's your name?"

The girl looked up, her eyes still filled with sorrow. "Bashira", she said, her voice almost wasn't audible, fading away in the noise produced by the people in the shopping centre.

"Bashira? That's a lovely name", Molly said, producing a bright smile on her face. This girl reminded her of her younger sisters, especially of the second eldest Dawes child Bella. But she was all grown up now, picking up her life again and going to school. She was a student nurse at King's College. "Sounds a lot like the princess in the Aladdin story."

Her last words caused the girl to smile, only just a small one. Molly looked her straight in the eye, the smile disappeared from her face. "Can you tell me what happened, Bashira?", she asked. "You want to do that for me?"

Bashira wanted to open her mouth to start talking when Katy came walking out of the supermarket. All the heads of the customers were turned to look at the scene displayed before them. The suspect, a tanned young male with black hair, was escorted by Katy. He was one of those suspects that wouldn't go quietly. They wanted to be in the centre of attention, moving in a dancelike manner, while yelling the most unkind words to their surroundings, only this time she had no idea what he was saying. He was yelling in his native language, which sounded a lot like the language they spoke in the neighbourhood Molly grew up in.

"Come on, keep movin'!", Katy said, more like yelled while she pushed the suspect towards their squad car. In the background she saw Baz Vegas and Chris Ingrams walking towards Katy, assisting her in the arrest.

Molly looked back at the young girl before her, only this time she wasn't met with sorrow in her eyes. She also detected a trace of fear there as well. She frowned her brown eyebrows. "Do you know him?", she asked, her thumb pointed to the direction Katy just disappeared in.

"Yes." Bashira slightly nodded her head. "He's my brother."

Molly swallowed and felt a bit sorry for the girl. In the academy they taught all the cadets not to get emotionally involved, but she had a gut feeling, very deep inside of her, that in this case that was going to be hard. She saw so much of herself into this young girl. She was exactly that when she was younger, seeing her father being dragged away by police officers because he stole something, only he stole things from the liquor store instead of the supermarket.

"His name is Zemeray", she continued.

"What happened today, Bashira?" She began to get her notebook out of her jacket, while she got a pen from her inside pocket.

Bashira shrugged. "He wanted to see if he would get caught again", she confessed.

"For stealing, you mean?"

The girl nodded. "Yes, father is going to be very angry." When Bashira mentioned her father, she saw something changed inside of her. There was something about her father that was suspensions in her eyes.

"Does your father get angry often?", Molly asked, deciding to dig a little deeper into the girl's father than focussing on Zemeray's motive for stealing. Bashira broke any eye contact, looking at the surroundings. A few feet away were the paramedics helping the supermarket manager, who got beaten up very badly by Bashira's brother.

Molly stood up, putting her notebook and pen away while she extended her hand towards the girl. "Come on, let's go back to the station. I still need to take you statement", she said. Hesitantly Bashira took Molly's hand while she stood up, making her way towards the squad car.

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><p>The sound of sirens of the passing police car was quickly absorbed by the sounds of the city; the sound of the typical red double-decker bus, the black taxi that London was also known for or the honking of the hundreds of cars occupying London's roads.<p>

Charles put his hands deeper inside of his coat's pocket before he sat himself down on one of the wooden park benches. He took in the cold air that was surrounding him, indicating that the month of October had arrived. The once colourful leaves were falling out of the trees, creating a sea of red, orange and yellow colours on the benches, footpaths and grass.

He looked around him, taking in the surroundings of the park. He was prepared, always prepared. He was meeting an informant of his, whom he obtained during one the teams cases. The danger of meeting one's informant was that there was always a chance of a trap.

In the corner of his eyes he saw a man with dark coloured hair, which reached the side of his cheekbones, walking towards him. He had worked with Sohail before, the man had given him useful information on several occasions. The dark-haired informant greeted him with a nod before sitting down as well. "What have you got for me today, Sohail?"

The informant cleared his throat. "They are bringing in container tonight."

"What time?"

"At ten o'clock this evening", he said, his ethnical background evident in the way he pronounced the words.

Charles nodded. "Where?", he asked. When he was meeting his informants he wanted to be brief, getting the information he needed very quickly so he could go back to HQ. The longer they sat her talking, the more chance there was of them getting caught. That could be fatal for both of them; Sohail would be killed for betraying his partners in crime, while he would be killed for simply being a police detective.

Sohail took his right hand out of his pocket and gave him a small note, where he read the location of the arrival of the container. Charles nodded, thanking him for the information. "What's inside the container?"

"People", he said. Charles frowned his brown eyebrows, before Sohail continued, clarifying himself a bit more: "More women and children."

"Anything else?"

"Your team needs to look out", he said. He didn't know if his ears were deceiving him, but did he hear some sort of worry in those words of Sohail? No, that wasn't possible, his eyes must be betraying him. "They have very modern weapons, detective James."

"So do we, so don't worry about that."

"They have killed people that stand in their way before."

Charles gave the informant one of his reassuring smiles. "We'll be alright. Thanks for the tips, Sohail."

Both men stood up from the park benches. "You're welcome", Sohail said.

"Have a nice night. Call me if anything changes." Sohail nodded, before turning around, leaving him behind in the cold.

He made his way towards his car and drove off to HQ, so he could debrief his team about the mission. Several months ago there had been a tip from Sohail, who had heard some rumours regarding human trafficking from somewhere near Pakistan. They were bringing in people through containers into the harbours in London so they could be sold to the highest bidder. He and his team were put on the case so this could be stopped.

After a fifteen minute drive he parked his car in the garage under the New Scotland Yard headquarters. He showed his badge to the security guard at the front door when he made his way towards the elevator, getting inside it when it arrived. The doors of the elevator where about to close when out of nowhere an arm was put between the closing doors. Automatically the doors re-opened again, revealing the culprit who was responsible for this act.

He was slightly taken aback by the woman and the young girl standing next to her. The woman was fully dressed in a police uniform, while the girl seemed to be wearing a traditional but colourful long dress while her head was covered in a head-scarf. "Thanks", the young police constable mumbled. He didn't say anything, simply because he couldn't find the right words. It was like she turned him into this insecure, little boy he once was when he was younger.

He shook these thoughts away, trying his best not to look at the two other people in the elevator. Finally the doors closed and the elevator made its way towards the destination; the fifth floor. After a few moments of awkward silence they reached the right floor, the two women disappearing behind the already closing doors.

When he reached his floor he made his way towards his office, his team already present there. "Alright", he said, taking a seat in the chair behind his desk. "Sohail said there is a container with people arriving in the London tonight. The location is on this piece of paper."

Out of his inside pocket he got that white piece of paper that Sohail had given him. "We need to intercept that", Dylan Smith said when he read what was on the paper. Dylan, also known to the rest of the team as Smurf, was a young detective constable for over a year when he joined his team.

Jackie, the only woman in the team and the only one with a medical background, stepped forward and read the paper as well. "But we can't do it at the harbour, boss", she said, both of her eyebrows slightly frowned, forming one straight line on her forehead. "Too many witnesses."

He nodded, agreeing with the female detective constable in front of him. "Yes, you're right. That's why we need to intercept it while he's on the move." He stood up from behind his desk and yelled: "Brains!"

A few seconds later a young man with little to no hair on his head walked into the office. "I have a job for you."

"What's that, boss man?", Brains asked while he folded his arms together.

"I need you to hack into the company that the truck is rented from. Hack into the GPS of the truck and change its route."

Brains grinned, like he had just received the best present at Christmas. "With pleasure."

"Yeah, that's what I thought", Charles said while he chuckled. "In another world you would make an excellent criminal."

"Thanks", he said, his grin only getting bigger and bigger.

"That wasn't a compliment, you cockwomble." Brains turned around, making his way towards his cave. Well, that's what he called it. It was his office where he was surrounded by computers and TV screens. It seemed to Charles that he was monitoring everything that was happening outside HQ.

Charles turned his attentions to the other team members still in his office. "Jackie and Smurf, find me a good place where we can set up a trap. I don't want any witnesses or risks. It needs to be fast and smooth, no fuss."

"Yup", Smurf answered.

While Jackie responded with the simple words: "Got it."

"Alright, I'm going to brief the chief upstairs. Don't disappoint me." With those words he left, making his way towards the elevator again. He shook away the memories that were attached to that one word, pushing away the memories of those brown eyes that seemed to see straight through him.

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><p>Molly placed a plastic cup under the coffee machine, making the dark liquid pour inside of it. She put the other cup under the tab, letting the fresh water slide make its way inside. She turned around to get her coffee when someone stood on the other side of the kitchen counter.<p>

"Bloody hell, you almost gave me a Julius Seizure, fucking muppet."

Chris Ingrams grinned at her, looking at her in a way that couldn't be classified as an emotion she was familiar with. He looked at her with his grey eyes, but it wasn't the same. It wasn't the way those chocolate brown eyes looked at her in the elevator. It simply wasn't the same.

"What do you want?"

He smiled at her. "So, what are you doing tonight?"

"Just say it. You want something, don't ya?" She broke of the eye contact, while she got her cup of coffee from the machine.

"I figured we could continue where we left off last night?" He wiggled his eyebrows, probably reliving everything from last night.

"You might not gonna believe me, but I have something better to do." She didn't want to sound harsh to someone she saw as a friend, but she wasn't in the mood. The case of Bashira still tinkered with her emotions.

"Like what?"

"That ain't ya business."

He stepped away from behind the kitchen counter, making her way towards her, only stopping a few inches from her face. He smiled at her again. "And I can't convince you otherwise? You don't know what you're missin'."

"Oh, yeah. I do."

She turned around, finding Katy leaning against the doorway. "Owh!", she said, like she had badly hurt some part of her body. "Please apply water to the burned area." She shook her head, finding the situation quite hilarious while her laughing filled the small break area.

Molly walked towards her friend, making her way towards the hallway. When Chris had left the room behind them, Katy asked quite serious. "How long are you gonna keep sleepin' with him, Molly?"

She stopped walking, really surprised by her friend's question. She knew that Katy didn't really agree with the relationship she had with Chris, but she never said anything in such a serious manner before. "Look, Katy", she started, trying to find the right words. "You ain't gotta worry about me. I'm fine."

"I know it's hard with your parents and that, but by doing that…" Katy pointed at the room they just walked out off. "It's not gonna change anything."

Molly swallowed hard. Deep, very deep down inside of her, somewhere she never dared herself to look, she knew that Katy was right. It wasn't going to change the situation, it would only make it worst. But when she was with him she could simply forget the sorrows she carried with her. And she longed for that, to be without the pain inside of her heart. That pain that she had been carrying with her ever since she started to go to the academy. "It helps me cope, alright?"

Katy nodded, signalling she could imagine it. "I just don't want you to do anything you're gonna regret later."

"I know", Molly said, while trying to smile in a way that her friend wouldn't worry about her. She would be fine. Eventually. "Thanks, Katy."

"Anytime."

Molly started moving again, making her way towards the room where Bashira was waiting for her. "Any luck with the suspect?", Molly asked.

Katy shook her head. "Nah, he isn't talking. Only saying he wants a lawyer."

"Ah, those are the worst."

"Tell me about it." Katy chuckled, running a hand through her blond hair. "Any luck with the sister?"

"Just on my way to take her statement."

"Good luck."

"Yeah, you too." They parted ways; Katy made her way towards the interrogation rooms while she made her way towards the rooms they used to receive family members, telling them the progression they made on the case, both good and bad news. With her elbow she put pressure on the doorhandle and made her way inside the room.

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><p><strong>So, what do you think? Should I continue with this story? Please, let me know what you think. I'm taking quite a risk with this AU story and I really hope you liked it. <strong>

**And just one more question, I have tried to find something about the call signs that police officers use over the radio, but I couldn't find anything on the internet. I have instead used something from a TV series, but I'm not sure it's accurate. If anyone knows the right one, please let me know and I'll change it! **

**And for anyone who is curious for what I have in mind for this story. It's not going to follow the exact storyline from the original TV series. I loved that storyline, but I simply don't want to copy that and instead use my own imagination.. There are some similar parts in this story, but not all of them.**

**Thanks for reading :) **


	2. Chapter 2

**I want to apologize for updating this late, but I have been so incredibly busy with school that I simply didn't have the time to write. And December is one hell of a busy month I can tell you, haha.**

**I hope you'll enjoy this chapter nonetheless. I will try to update as soon as possible, January is looking good, giving me plenty of time to write. **

**And of course, before you start reading, thank you for the amazing response of the last chapter. I wasn't really sure if people would like this AU one, but I'm happy that a lot of you did and took the time to review it. It's much appreciated. **

**Anyway, enjoy.**

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><p>The sun was shining brightly, spreading its warmth across the city of London. Molly opened the door of the police car, taking in the very familiar surroundings of the run-down houses of east London while her hand rested firmly on her equipment belt. The once wooden frames of the windows were deteriorated, like it would cave into the pressure of those bricks walls the rest of the apartment building was made off.<p>

Today she was partnered with Chris Ingrams, something that seemed to irritate her more than it pleased her. Ever since that conversation with Katy a couple of days ago she saw Chris in a different light and honestly, it wasn't a good one. The blond man was supposed to be her friend, but it felt like he was only interested in the sex, rather than the friendship they had.

Molly followed Chris up the stairs to the house she visited a couple of days ago when she dropped off Bashira after she had taken her statement. When the dispatcher announced on the radio that there was a call about a domestic disturbance it never hit her that it could be in the house of Bashira and her family.

A loud bang interrupted her trail of thoughts, making her focus on the reality she was in. By instinct she tightened the grip around her belt, ready to take action if that was necessary. After reaching the second floor they made their on the walk away of the apartment building, Molly closely following Chris. She looked past the dark grey banister on the right side of her, seeing some furniture scattered across the pavement.

They reached the house, being met with the entire place trashed. Furniture was spread across the living room while a small crack in the kitchen window was visible. Molly noticed a young girl in the corner of the kitchen, while a man, whom she assumed was the father, was standing in the doorway looking at them like this was nothing. There was no fear in his dark eyes, no sign that he was capable of showing his emotion. His dark eyes met her, making a shiver run down her spine. The gut feeling she had when she'd helped Bashira in the mall was creeping up at her again.

"You look after the girl", Chris ordered. "I'm gonna have a talk with the brother." After Katy had attempted to get an confession out of Zemeray, his father bailed him out, making sure he was roaming free until his trial.

Molly walked inside, ignoring the evil eyes of the father that were following her, watching her every move. She knelt down in front of the girl, who finally dared herself to look up. "Molly", the girl whispered, a hint of recognition present in her voice as well.

"Hello, Bashira", Molly said, trying her best to smile at the young girl in an encouraging way. The only thing she could do to make the girl feel a bit safe again. "Are you alright?"

Bashira nodded. "Are you hurt anywhere?" Molly didn't wait for Bashira to answer, she simply let her glance wander across the young girls face. She found some blood present near her dark eyebrows, mixed with the dark hairs of it. "Come on, sweetie", Molly said while she stood up. She extended her hand in the same way as she did last time, hoping that this time she would also gain the girl's trust. "I got a bag in the car. I can fix that nasty cut for ya, alright?"

Bashira looked at her, taking her hand into hers before Molly let her to the car. They were walking on the walk away, several watchful eyes of the neighbours following them until they reached the car. Molly got the first aid kit out of the trunk, putting it next to her before she helped Bashira sit on the edge of the seat. She got the antiseptic out of the kit so she could disinfect the wound. "This might gonna sting a bit." Bashira flinched when the antiseptic touched the wound, but she could tell that she was trying to be strong.

After she patched up the small cut on her eyebrow, she saw Chris Ingrams walking back towards the car. "Bashira!", she heard the father yell from the walk-away. The dark-haired girl put her head scarf back on, breaking every eye contact there was, making herself unreachable for her help. Before Molly could say anything Bashira was running back towards the entrance of the apartment building.

She was about to get back in the car when she heard someone say: "Excuse me", that person said, his ethnic background audible in the way he pronounced the words. Molly turned around, being met with brown eyes, only these ones were filled with kindness. Hesitantly he took a few steps forwards, putting his hands together nervously. "I am Qaseem, one of the neighbours of Bashira. Is she alright?"

Molly nodded, the kindness in his eyes was mixed with a hint of worry. "Yeah, cleaned her wound up. She'll be alright, I hope." She looked back to the door where Bashira disappeared behind, getting back to her reality. It felt so wrong leaving her with a man like that, but she couldn't do anything. If she wanted to do something, she had to follow every step of the protocol, making sure she didn't make any mistakes.

"I'm really worried about her", the neighbour confessed.

Molly folded her arms together. "Why?"

"I don't have any prove unfortunately, but I think he's abusive to them. He's hitting them whenever he feels like it", he said. "Ever since Zemeray does what his father wants, he takes everything out on Bashira."

Molly bit her lip. "What about her mother?", she asked.

Qaseem looked down, the hesitation present his unspoken body language. "She is too afraid to do something. In our culture women have a different position than in yours."

Molly placed her right hand on Qaseem's shoulder shortly, making him look her in the eyes again. Here was a good man genuinely worried about that young girl. "I want to help too, Mr. Qaseem, but I can't. I need to be really sure that he's abusive before I can start an investigation. I have to follow every rule…"

He nodded, indicating he understood. "I know", he answered. "Thank you for wanting to help, Constable."

She smiled, his kindness had an unexpected effect on her. "Just call me Molly."

His kindness caused him to final, it being transferred into his smile as well. "As long as you call me Qaseem."

They were brutally interrupted by Chris, who was yelling at her, making her turn around to look at her ridicules partner. "Come on, Molly", he said, hitting the roof of the squad car a few times, indicating he was in some sort of hurry. "It's lunchtime."

Molly looked back at the man standing in front of her, rolling her eyes. "I should go", she said, pointing at the police car behind her. "He turns into some evil monster if he doesn't get his food." They chuckled, before the smile on her face faded away slowly. "If you see anything, than call me." Molly got her card out of her inside pocket, handing it to Qaseem.

"Yes, I will", he said, taking the card from her hand. "Thank you for listening, and of course caring for Bashira." Gratitude filled his eyes, replacing the kindness and worry she had found in his eyes. Molly smiled, looking one more time to the apartment where Bashira lived before getting inside the car. With great speed Chris drove the car back to the main road.

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><p>With a soft bang the door, which gave everyone access to the interrogation room, closed behind them. Charles ran his hands through his curly hair, while he sighted. Currently Dylan and Jackie were leading the interrogation of the driver. They intercepted the transport, arresting the driver while taking some of the people inside the container to the local hospital for dehydration and fever. Since they were transported illegally into the country so they had to send them all back.<p>

His thoughts were interrupted when he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. He rummaged in his pocket and put the phone to his ear, answering the call without looking at the caller's ID. "Hello", he said.

"Hi, Charles. It's me, Rebecca."

He sighted hearing his almost ex-wife's voice. "What is it?", he said, massaging his left temple. Ever since this case started he felt like he carried the world on his shoulders. Never in his career did a case get to him.

"I've been called in for an emergency operation, so I dropped Sam off at your parent's house", she started. "You can pick him up after you're finished at work today."

He bit his lip, hoping that the irritation he felt rising inside of him would stay there, hidden. "Yeah, alright", he said. "I'll pick him up when I'm finished for the day."

"Well, thank you."

A charged atmosphere momentarily reigned between them, something that seemed to be mixed into their conversations. Mostly they were brief, only the necessary information was exchanged between them. They didn't talk about the daily things, because he simply didn't want to anymore. Ever since he caught her in bed with another man, which he hadn't forgiven her just yet, he filed for divorce. He might not have been the most amazing husband, never being around for her and for Sam, but that didn't mean he could forgive her for sleeping with someone else.

"Have you signed the papers yet?"

He heard her sight deeply. "No, I'm sorry", she said in an apologetic manner. "I didn't have the time, Charles."

"You not signing the papers doesn't change anything. I won't change my mind."

He started massaging his temples again, a deep frown forming on his face. "I know, Charles", she answered. "But still-"

He clenched his jaw. "Sign the damn papers, Rebecca", he said, maybe a bit harsh before he hung up.

Everything he used to love about Rebecca irritated him at the moment. There was nothing she could do right in his mind. He was really hurt when he found her in bed with someone else. It felt like a knife was put straight into his heart, leaving behind nothing but an ugly scar.

They were high school sweethearts, marrying way too young. He joined the army straight after graduation, even being part of SAS for 6 years. His relationship with Rebecca was being tested, especially at the time she was pregnant with Sam. She always complained about him not being there for her and after a while he didn't want to anymore. The love he once felt for her was fading away, being replaced by the satisfaction he got doing his job.

Right at that moment Jackie and Smurf were leaving the interrogation room behind, entering the room bordering it. "He's not talkin'", Smurf said, when the door closed behind him.

"Yeah, he keeps saying he wants a lawyer", Jackie added, her eyebrows formed into one momentarily. "What do you suggest we do, boss?"

He took a deep breath while he ran his hands through his curly hair. "We need to find out everything we have about him. There must be something we can use as a bargaining chip. Give me all his dirty little secrets."

Jackie nodded and said: "Money, family. Got it."

"Should we brief the others?", Smurf asked, pointing with his thumb towards the exit of this room where the rest of the team was waiting.

Charles nodded. "Yeah, sure. Thanks."

With those words being said Jackie and Smurf made their way towards the door, eventually disappearing behind it, leaving him alone with his thoughts again. Only this time they wandered back to that moment in the elevator where he met the most beautiful eyes he'd ever met.

* * *

><p>"There you go", the elderly woman said to her.<p>

"Yeah, thanks", Molly said to the waitress, smiling. A plate full of French fries, a hamburger and a diet coke were waiting in front of her. She took a small sip of the coke, feeling the cold liquid slid down her throat, before taking one of the French fries in her hand.

She stared down the window, taking in the view of the cars, red double-decker busses and black taxis. Ever since she left the house of Bashira and had a talk with that neighbour, a bad feeling created itself inside of her, eventually settling in and never leaving again. It just didn't feel right leaving her there, so exposed to violence. No child should be exposed to that, they should have the chance to grow up, being surrounded by love. Only love.

"Oi", Chris said before her, his hand moving in front of her face, desperately trying to get het attention. "Where are you at, Molls?"

She looked away, her eyes momentarily meeting Chris'. She hesitated for a moment, contemplate whether she should trust him with it or not. He was her friend, despite the fact that they shared a bit more than what friends normally do.

She bit her lip, taking in the much needed fresh air. "Ain't ever believin' it's right to leave the girl there", she confessed, sharing the subject that was occupying her thoughts only moments ago.

"What girl?", he asked, before taking a big bite of his hamburger.

"Bashira."

"What about her?"

"Do you think it's right to leave her there? Ya know, with a father and brother like them?" She looked him in the eye again, only there was something missing. That one feeling that a friend could give by only looking; that he understood, or at least tried to.

"That's not for us to say, Molls."

"So you just don't care and move on?"

"Just let it go", he said. "There is nothing you can do now." Chris pressed his lips together and she even thought she heard him growl at her, probably trying his best not to let the irritation get the better of him. She swallowed, finding it hard to accept this side of Chris.

She shook her head in disbelieve. "Can't believe…" She didn't finish the sentence, simply didn't have the words to describe it.

"Can you just stop, Molly?", he said, but she could tell the underlying question behind those words. "There is nothing you can do. Let it go."

"But-", she tried, another attempt to convince him of the importance of helping Bashira.

"For the love of God", he said, raising his voice slightly. "Just shut the fuck up. For once in your live, do as you're told."

His words sounded harsh, too harsh for her liking. It might have been easier for her to relate to Bashira, since she knew what it was like to have a dominate father in the house, but it wouldn't stop her from being professional. She was going to help this girl, because there were so many times she begged the police officer that visited her house to help them. But none of them ever did.

And Chris… Well, maybe it was time to leave that behind and focus on the thing that mattered. Give all her energy to the people who needed it, rather than the people who would take advantage of that just to help themselves.

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><p>The nights were getting cooler, the temperatures were forced to drop when the autumn had begun a couple of weeks ago. Molly took the door handle in her hand, feeling the cold metal touching her hand shortly, opening the door of the local pub in southern part of London which was called Croydon. The part of London she now called her home, sharing a house with Katy and a friend of her; Dangleberries.<p>

She took her coat off, letting it hang loosely around the chair before she ordered a pint of the great English ale at the bar. Taking one sip of the beer, she was interrupted by the voice of Bella Dawes, the second eldest Dawes child.

"Molly", she said, pulling Molly into a tight hug.

She looked at the young man behind her little sister, before pulling him into a hug again. "Nice seein' ya again, Grant", she said.

"Wouldn't want to miss a night out with the Dawes' girls." They laughed before settling into the chairs across from her.

"So, how have ya been?", Molly asked, taking a sip from her beer.

Bella smiled, looking at Grant for only a short moment. But it was long enough to notice that love really existed between them. Not the love she once shared with Artan, or the love she shared with any of her other boyfriends she had. "Everything is fine."

Now it was Molly's turn to smile. "School too?"

Her younger sister nodded. "Yeah, that too. I've just learned how to dress yellow, red and black wounds."

Grant chuckled. "Yeah and she practised it all on me", he said, shaking his head.

"But you make a cute mummy", Bella answered, the joy audible in her voice, laughing at her own comment while making a fake pout. He simply laughed, kissing her lips briefly.

She and Bella were close ever since her little sister was born. She couldn't imagine her life without her in it. Her sister was the only thing she got left as far as family members go. Since she had decided to join the police force of London her dad cut all ties with her, not wanting to speak with his cop daughter anymore. Her mother tried, but couldn't change his mind.

After a few months of secret meetings with her mother she said she couldn't do it anymore. She couldn't lie to her husband anymore and said that it was for the best to just stop seeing each other, making it sound so easy. Like it didn't mean anything to her.

When she was half way through the academy Bella contacted her again, saying that she missed sharing her bedroom with her big sister. But more importantly, she missed their nightly conversation when all of the children already gone to bed. They had a heartfelt conversation afterwards and decided that they would meet every week at the local pub.

She had encouraged her sister to go back to school, since she wouldn't find happiness working at the local supermarket filling shelves. Bella had followed her advice and enrolled in the local school for nurses. During her traineeship in one of the hospitals she met Grant, who was a medical student, studying to become a doctor. They hit it off straight away and were together ever since.

Molly swallowed, the light and relaxed atmosphere disappearing into the night and making room for a charged one. "How's mum?" She didn't bother asking about her dad again. She wasn't up for that yet.

Bella shrugged. "Fine, I guess. She met this new woman in the local supermarket. Complete nutbag that one is. She's called Shazza."

Molly frowned her eyebrows. "Shazza? Her name sounds just as stupid as her name."

"Yeah, I know", Bella said, chuckling. "She reckons mum got potential, sayin' she could make it as a assistant teacher."

"Mum? As a teacher?"

Her little sister laughed. "Yeah, been pissin' myself ever since I heard it."

Molly shrugged, the smile on her face fading away. "Maybe we need to support mum", she said. "Dad ain't ever did that."

Bella sighted. "Maybe."

"So, who wants another drink?", Grant asked, breaking the silence between the two sisters, interrupting their moment.

"Yeah, just a coke for me, thanks", Bella said before Grant nodded and made his way over to the bar.

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><p><strong>So, what do you think? I hope you've enjoyed and would love for you all to review it. <strong>

**And for all the Our Girl fans out there: A Merry Christmas to you all :) Enjoy it! **


	3. Chapter 3

**First of all, I apologize for it taking so for me to update. It has been crazy with school assigment and everything that I really didn't have the time to write. I'm going to be very busy at least this month and February, so don't expect frequent updates. I'll try my best though, since I really want to finish this story. **

**Also, many thanks to those who have reviewed last chapter. There has been a decrease in reviews, so I'm still hoping that everyone likes this story and would review this chapter. It is much appreciated!**

**Anyway, enjoy!**

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><p>The ringing of the phone somewhere in the background pulled her back to reality. Oh, she hated this. This day she had been assigned to desk duty, clear away the stacks of papers sitting on her desk for the last couple of weeks.<p>

In the corner of her eyes she saw Chris Ingrams walking towards the coffee machine, not once making eye contact with her. She couldn't put her finger on it, but ever since she had that conversation with him about Bashira he was distant with her. Not just with her, but she had a feeling he was distant with the rest of them as well.

After the met on the day of the selection, which everyone needed to go through if they applied, they hit it of straight away. Katy, Baz, Chris and she had become really good friends and maintained the friendship during their work too. That was until that conversation between her and Chris at the diner, which had somehow changed everything.

"Molly?", someone said behind her, forcing her to focus on the present.

She turned around. "Yeah?", she said, meeting the eyes of her colleague and friend Lauren. The dark colour of her hair, perfectly kept together by a rubber band, shone in the light provided by fluorescent light above them.

"There is someone at the front desk for you." Molly frowned her eyebrows and stood up, leaving behind the stack of papers and her desk. "Some young girl named Bishra? Bhira?", Lauren continued.

The frown on Molly's face got bigger, the feeling of worry crept up on her. She had that feeling again, that gut feeling that something was wrong. "You mean Bashira?"

Lauren nodded and opened the door towards the entrance of the police station. On one of the benches she saw the little girl from a couple of days ago, the anxious look still present on her face. It looked like it was plastered there forever, like the girl would never be rid of the life she was living now.

"Bashira?", Molly questioned the girl. "What are you doing here?"

The dark haired girl looked around nervously, probably double checking that no-one knew she was talking to the police. "I need to tell you something", she said softly, those words almost came out as a whisper.

Molly nodded and extanded her hand. "Come on. We're gonna have a chat in one of the rooms. No-one can hear us there", she reassured her. She needed to keep Bashira calm and confident, in the same way that made her decide to tell her about something.

The young police constable guided her through the whirlwind of police officers, the different ranks walking all over the place like an ant's nest would sometimes look like. She pointed at one of the relatives rooms, the rooms where they would usually tell the family the bad news. "Here", Molly said, her lips formed a smile on her face. "Sit down and I'll get ya some water."

The room consisted of a brown colored couch in the shape of the letter L and a coffee table in the middle of the room with a blue vase, with some fake flowers in it, on top of it. Bashira took a seat on the couch and said: "I don't want any water, thank you."

Molly simply nodded and sat down next to the girl. She knew deep down inside that she wouldn't forget a girl like Bashira, but she never thought that the girl would have such an impact on her. It was about two weeks ago that she arrested the girl's brother. "What is it you wanna tell me?"

The dark haired girl cleared her throat, gathering the strength to tell her. Something she admired ever since she met Bashira. "My father is planning something bad." She rubbed her hands together nervously, while she bit on her lower lip. "With my brother", she added.

"What are they planning?"

Bashira shrugged. "I don't know, but I took a photo with my phone." She lifted some of the colorful fabric that formed her dress and got a phone out of her pocket. She handed the electrical devise to her, the cold casing of the phone touching her hand.

She looked carefully when she sifted through the photos. On those photos it appeared that there was some timetable about shipment arriving in the harbor somewhere, it appeared that it was London, and some map of a part of London. She couldn't tell which part it was, but one thing she knew for sure was that something was off. Way off.

"You mind if I upload these in the database here?" When Bashira shook her head, indicating that she didn't mind, Molly made her way to her desk again. She sat down on the office chair behind her desk and plugged the wire in that would transfer the photographs from the phone to the computer.

She took in one deep breath, hoping deep down that it these photos would turn up empty. It wasn't right that a young girl, especially at Bashira's age, would be exposed to such crime. She should be surrounded by love, nothing more.

A noise coming from her computer made her abandon her thoughts and return to the present. On her computer screen there was a red, blinking notification. It said: "Classified. Case of Detective Chief Inspector James. "Shit", she muttered before she made a bee-line towards her boss' office.

* * *

><p>Charles tapped his fingers impatiently on the wooden desk, leaving the echo of this movement linger in his office. He was completely irritated by small progress they made on the case. They had started to dig into the driver's past, creating some leverage for negotiation. Because, truth be told, that was the only way he was going to talk.<p>

The ringing of the phone on his desk made him stop tapping while his other hand reached for the phone. He picked it up, pressing the phone's receiver against his ear. "Detective James", he said, his form stern. The professionalism he wanted to emanate clearly present in the steadiness of his voice.

"Ah, Charles. Stephen Beck here", the person on the other side of the phone said. He quickly identified the person as his boss. "Can you come to my office? I have someone here who might have a possible lead for you."

He frowned his dark eyebrows, confused by the words of his boss. They hadn't had a lead for days and all of a sudden there magically appeared one? That seemed highly unlikely, he thought. His job had always been unpredictable, so he couldn't see the harm in checking the lead out. "Yeah, of course. I'm on my way now."

After five minutes he knocked on the door of Beck's office and walked inside without waiting for an answer. What he found there was beyond what he expected. He expected some low life junky or homeless person with an unclear lead, but instead he found the familiar eyes of the one person he couldn't get out of his head in those last couple of weeks. The person he nicknamed "the elevator girl".

Stephen Beck must have seen the surprised look on his face, because he explained: "Detective James, this is Constable Molly Dawes. A girl she bonded with during one of her arrests confided in her, saying she took a few pictures of something her father and brother were working on. It's related to your case, Detective."

He crossed his arms in front of his chest. "In what way?"

Beck nodded towards the young woman in front of him, indicating she could continue the explanation. "I uploaded the pictures and ran them through the database. Your case popped up, Sir."

"I have talked with some of the lads upstairs and they want to add Constable Dawes to your team, Detective. Only temporarily of course."

"What?", he exclaimed, a little louder than he initially intended. He observed the brown haired woman who was standing just a few inches away from him, her mouth slightly ajar. The surprise and disbelieve present on her face as well.

Beck stood up from the chair behind his desk, making his way towards them. "Yes, we have talked about this. She is the only one who's got a connection to the young girl. You need to use that."

"But Sir", he interjected. "Why can't she help us when we need information about the girl? No disrespect to the people upstairs, but isn't she a bit inexperienced to be working this case?"

Beck held up his hand. "Just save it, James", he said, his face displayed a stern look. "It's been decided. I trust you'll fill her in on the case."

He nodded, his internal exterior not mirroring the outside one. He was pissed off, completely pissed off that an inexperienced rookie was going to help him with the case. What could she possibly add to the team other than misery and mayhem? But he was a man who worked by the book, he lived on regulations and protocols. So he was going obey the order, but it doesn't mean he was going to like it.

"Constable Dawes, follow me", he barked at her like some army officer during their training, before opening the door and making his way towards the elevator. When he woke up this morning he didn't expect that his day would end this way, that he was being forced to include her into his team.

When they reached the right floor he made his way towards his team. Several questioning eyes were following them, before hubbub started to break out amongst them, spreading as fast as a bushfire could do sometimes. Dylan Smith, who referred to himself as some Greek God amongst the ladies, smiled at the new addition to the team. His womanizing skills even got as far as him not being welcome in the morgue downstairs since he slept with one of the coroners, leading her on since it was only fun for him while she wanted a serious relationship.

"This is Constable Dawes. She will be assisting us on the case."

Fingers, their bomb technician, asked with one simple word, summarizing the entire situation: "Boss?"

"Not my call, Fingers. Upstairs has decided." The rest of the team nodded in understanding. "Alright, you cockwombles", he said, walking towards them, joining them at the table positioned in the middle of the room. Several papers were spread across the table, intermitted with the occasional tablet there. "What have we got?"

He heard someone snigger behind him. He turned around to identify the culprit, quickly noticing that Molly Dawes tried her hardest to hide the smile on her face. "What's so funny, Constable?"

"Cockwombles, detective", she said, the smile had yet to disappear from her face. "Ain't heard that one since high school."

He ignored her fit of giggles behind him and instead focused on the case. He slowly felt the irritation rise inside of him. "Jackie?"

The woman cleared her throat, before she took the remote from the table in front of them and started to click in the direction of the several TV screens they surrounded themselves with. "Boss, meet Khalïd Masud El Yousfi." A picture of the driver, probably from his driver's license, appeared on the screen. "Currently he lives in France. He was born in Egypt's capital Cairo."

Dylan nodded. "He lives with his family in France", he added while he took the remote from his colleague. He clicked on it before he continued: "He has a daughter the same age as one of the deceased one's we found in the containers."

Dylan clicked towards the screens again, when several papers appeared on it. Brains took a step forwards and said: "I did some digging, hacked into the Egypt police database but I couldn't find something like a criminal record. Not even a speeding ticket."

"Too good to be true, you say."

"Yeah, exactly", the technical analyst said. "But MI6 does have a file on him. I couldn't get into that without leaving a trace, so we need to go through the proper channels, boss."

Charles nodded in approval and turned towards the young constable next to him. "Fancy a trip across the Thames, Constable?"

Her dark eyebrows momentarily shot up to her hairline, before it returned to its original place. "Sir?", he asked, surprise embedded in her voice.

"Jackie, take her to MI6 HQ. I'll sort out the clearance level with the boss' upstairs."

"On it, boss." With those words she walked away, closely followed by Molly.

"Oh and Dawes?", he asked, his eyes still following the young rookie. "You might want to change your clothes. We don't want to give the whole police constable too much away, would we?" Behind him he heard the rest of the team snigger. He looked at her one more time, before he made his way towards his office.

* * *

><p>The outlining of the head quarters of the secret intelligence service made an appearance on the horizon in front of her. The sun felt warm on her pale skin, indicating that spring was on its way. Molly sighted deeply. This morning hadn't gone as the way she wanted it.<p>

He had this stick so high up his ass that he couldn't act normal anymore. What an massive asshole. Who did he think he was telling her that she couldn't do her job? Yeah, she was inexperience but she was willing to learn. The commissioner had approved, so what was his problem?

She turned to the person who would answer a lot of her questions. "Is he always such a Rupert?", Molly asked, not caring if he could hear her. At least than he would know what a complete, unpleasant person he was.

Jackie chuckled, switching lane's on the road before answering: "Don't let him hear you say that."

"Why not?", she said, shrugging her shoulders like she didn't care. Because she really didn't. She'd rather sit at that godforsaken desk downstairs than work this case with _him_. "Ain't givin' a shit."

"He's not always like this, you know."

"No?"

Jackie shook her head. "No, he isn't. He's just pissed off at the whole thing, the case I mean. Let him warm up to you."

The silence returned to the car, occupying it for a moment. She hoped that he would warm up to her. I mean, she could handle a aggressive suspect. She was prepared for that, but she never thought a detective could be so cold, so unkind to his colleagues. So yeah, she might be inexperience but that didn't mean she was stupid.

"Do you think I'm too inexperienced for this case too?" It was a question that had been bothering her ever since she left the office. People like detective James made her doubt everything she worked so hard for. She worked really hard for what she had right now, fight for this without her family's support.

Jackie smiled, her eyes momentarily meeting her before focusing on the road before them. "Sometimes a case needs to be seen with a fresh pair of eyes", she said, explaining it with the appropriate hand gestures. "And yeah, maybe you are a bit inexperienced, but that doesn't mean you can't help us. We've all got your back."

She was amazed by Jackie's words. "Really?"

"You're part of the team now, Molly, so of course. It's the one motto all cops live by."

She rested her head against the head restraint of the seat, taking a deep breath. "Yeah, true." In front of her she saw the massive building of the MI6 head quarters rise above the river Thames. The windows of the building reflecting the radiating sun, sometimes ray of sunshine held back by some clouds.

"Come on, Molly", Jackie said. "You'll be alright. He gives everyone a hard time on their first day, so it's nothing personal."

Molly sighted. "If you say so."

"He just wants to do his job right. I mean, that's all he has got so he's got to do his best."

Molly frowned, taking the words of her new colleague in. Maybe there was more to that man than she initially thought. From what she experienced so far was that this case was going to be very interesting and maybe even go as far as to change her life.

* * *

><p>She put her key inside the keyhole, carefully opening the door. She was met with the smell of what she assumed was delicious food being prepared. She threw her shoes near the door before she put her jacket on the hat rack. She walked inside their living room, which bordered on their kitchen.<p>

She sat down next to Katy on the couch, observing their housemate Dangleberries work his magic in the kitchen. Well, at least that's what she called it. Halfway through her training at the academy she and Katy started looking for an apartment for them, since living alone got too expensive. They found an apartment and listed the other free bedroom on some website. After a few people applied they interviewed Dangleberries, who worked for the London Fire Brigade.

"Have you made the right choice, Dangles?", she asked, before grabbing one of the magazines from the coffee table.

Dangleberries poked his head around the doorframe, a towel in his hand. "What do you mean, Molls?"

"Shouldn't you be in culinary school or somethin'?"

Dangleberries still didn't get it, since he asked: "What?"

Molly chuckled at her oblivious friend. "With you cookin' and that I ain't ever want to eat in a proper restaurant for life."

Katy laughed as well, joining in in the teasing of their housemate. "Don't give his ego too much, Molls. He might not gonna get into his bedroom again."

"Are you sayin' I've got a big ego?" He put his hand on his heart, mimicking that Katy hurt his feelings.

The laughter of the girls filled the living room. "I think you've just answered your own question there, wanker", Katy said.

"Walked right into that one, didn't I?"

Molly chuckled again. "Yup", she said before she put the magazine down and walked towards the kitchen. "So, chef. What have you got for us today?"

* * *

><p>The dead silence met him every time he opened the door, making his way inside his apartment. It wasn't the laughter of his son that met him after a hard day of work. Or when Sam came running down the stairs, wrapping his arms around him, happy that his "daddy" was home again. That had been over ever since he separated from Rebecca.<p>

He had been living for his job, even when he was still with Rebecca. But now, now he didn't have to put all his energy in trying to save his marriage. He could divide it between his job and the moments he saw Sam.

He put his keys on of the desk drawers, before putting his jacket on the hat rack and his shoes underneath it. He walked towards the kitchen, putting some already prepared meal inside the microwave. He returned to the living room and put his TV on.

It had been a knife through the heart when he found the person he was once loved in the arms of another man. And for some reason he blamed himself for it. He must have done a terrible thing if it meant that Rebecca was forced to find the love and comfort she needed with someone else.

But on the other hand, it gave him a reason to really divorce her. He had been thinking about divorce for quite some time before he caught her red handed. It had presented him with the possibility of an easy way out without him being blamed as the bad guy.

He finished his meal in the company of his television before he took his phone out of his pocket and dialled a very familiar number.

"Hello?"

"Hi mum!", he said, a smile slowly spread across his son.

"Charles", his mother exclaimed. "It's good to hear from you, son."

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><p><strong>So, what do you think of this chapter? I promise you that from now on the Molly and Charles romance is going to blossom. Just be patient with me, I want to slowly build up to that moment...<strong>

**And of course, a review would come a long way for me :) So, please review away haha..**


	4. Chapter 4

**Alright, here is the next chapter. I had quite a struggle with this and hit writersblock in the beginning, but I'm over that now. I hope you liked it. This chapter is really focussed on Molly and Charles getting to know each other, seeing them into different light and the feelings that start to grow between them. Enjoy :) **

**And of course, before you start… I want to that each and every one of you who reviewed last chapter. The reviews are simply overwhelming, all I can say is thank you. A big thank you from me, because these reviews keep me writing. **

**Now, enjoy :)**

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><p>Charles parked the car at the left side of the road, shutting down the engine of it but leaving the car keys inside the ignition. The sun was slowly setting behind them, leaving a colour of orange, red and yellow fight for dominance in display of the skies in London.<p>

Molly leaned back and closed her eyes for a minute. Yesterday she arrived with Jackie at MI6 HQ for the information they had on the driver. It turned out that the driver Khalïd was spotted with a man called Yassir Rashad Loukili, who arrived in London a few days ago on a temporarily visa. While Mansfield Mike, Fingers and Brains stayed behind to dig into the life of this Yassir, she was stuck here with the boss on surveillance duty.

It wasn't a coincidence that she was stuck with the team leader. He made it very clear that he wasn't happy about the orders from above, even going as far as making her look like a dumb girl who didn't know her stuff. Well, she made promise to herself to prove him wrong. She was more than capable of being part of this team than anyone.

She opened her eyes again and slowly, but carefully looked at the face of the boss. The rough edges of his jaw were illuminated by the soft colors of the sunset, making him almost look like a decent human being. He was looking firmly at the house in front of him, not noticing her staring at him.

She chuckled, before looking at the street before her. "There's this joke my nan used to make…", she started.

"What are you doing, Dawes?" He looked at her, his brown eyebrows formed a deep frown in his forehead while his lips formed one line.

She shifted uncomfortable in the car chair. "Lightin' up the mood", she said carefully, the volume of her voice made her words almost came out as a whisper.

"Don't. We don't need a class clown.", he said. He pointed at the house of the suspect in front of them. "Just do your bloody job. Look at that house."

The silence returned, taking over the atmosphere of the car. So, there was no point in getting on the good side of this man, since he won't even let her try. She took in a deep breath, before taking the binoculars from the dashboard in front of her and looked at the house again. There was only one thing she could do right now, was to simply do her job like he told her to.

"There is movement in the house", she heard Jackie say over the radio. "He's making his way outside."

"Understood", Charles said, his face not showing one bit of emotion like he was some tough captain of an army platoon. "Everyone stand by."

Molly kept her eyes fixed on the house, which looked like an ordinary, town house. No-one could tell that a criminal was being hit behind the black front door. Slowly, the door was being opened and two man stepped outside. They seemed to be in deep conversation, not paying attention to their surroundings.

The light provided by the street lights on either side of the road shone on the face, revealing the dark features of his face. They were familiar, too familiar for her liking. "Fuck", she muttered under her breath, her hands clasped firmly on the binoculars.

"What?"

"I know him", she said, pausing for a moment. She looked away from the two men in front of her, meeting his hypnotizing, chocolate brown eyes. "That's Zemeray."

He frowned his dark eyebrows, his eyes not once leaving hers. "Who is he?"

"Someone I arrested a couple of weeks ago for shoplifting. His younger sister gave me the tip and took the pictures with her phone."

"Shit", he said, looking at the house again. She could tell that his body was tensing up, which was caused by the recent development in the case. She knew from the moment she met Zemeray that he was bad news, but she never thought they would cross paths again in such a manner.

"Alright", Charles said, his voice definitive about the plan of action. "We're going to follow them. They can't get away."

"On it, Boss", she heard Jackie say, closely followed by a "understood, Boss" from Smurf. Slowly, Charles maneuvered the car out of its parking space, making him partake in the traffic of the road. The headlights of the car illuminated the asphalt of the road, highlighting where they were going.

Yassir and Zemeray got into a silver colored car, while followed them, maintaining an considerable distance between them and her and Charles. Suddenly the car's speed accelerated, driving so fast it created a dangerous situation on the road.

"We've been made", Charles yelled into his earpiece, before he hit the gas. Concentration was written all over his face, his mouth and dark eyebrows forming one line on his face. His hands were firmly on the steering wheel, not once losing side of the road in front of him.

Several familiar houses passed them in a hurry, not once to be looked at by her or Charles. She recognized the streets, the shops on either sides of the road. The silver colored car stopped at the local gas station when the door on the passenger's side swung open and Yassir got out. The silver colored car with Zemeray in it drove off again, its speed dangerously increasing while Yassir started to run towards the houses.

She grew up in this neighborhood, knew every street, corners of it. Even the best places to hide, which she had done when she was younger and ran away from home simply to get her dad to pay attention. Usually it didn't work out the way she wanted it.

She made a decision. She turned her head, looking at Charles. "Let me get out of the car." When he sent her a questioning look, she continued: "I know the neighborhood. I grew up here. I'll chase him by foot so you can cut him off."

He hesitated for a moment, biting his lip nervously, probably trying to decide what was best. "Just because I'm inexperienced", she started, her words trying to convince him that this was the best option. "I don't want any special treatment. Let me get out." Her pleading eyes met his, hoping that this last movement would push him over the edge. She had to prove herself, not only to him but the rest of the team as well. She wanted to show them that she wasn't some pushover, that she could be an excellent addition to the team for the time being.

"Go", he ordered firmly, gesturing his head towards the door.

She didn't hesitate, getting out of the car within seconds, running towards the alley where Yassir had found cover in the darkness of the night.

The frequency of her breathing started to increasing, closely followed by her heart rate. Her feet were moving fast on the pavement, the only light was provided by the occasionally street lantern giving her inside to where she was going. She passed another corner, slowly getting a visual on the running suspect.

"Boss, I've got eyes on Yassir", she said gasping, the physical exhaustion was interfering with the steadiness of her voice. "He's runnin' to Barking Road, you can cut him off there."

She turned one more corner, before the suspect turned another corner, walking towards an street that she knew would end in an dead end. She grabbed her gun, that was strapped to her back, from the holster. This guy was dangerous and she needed to take every precaution to protect herself.

She stopped running, carefully walking towards the suspect, gun pointed at him. "There is nowhere to go, Yassir", she said, her voice nearly cracking, giving in to the pressure. Her breath was slowing down, while she took one step at the time towards the suspect, the soles of her shoes making a squeaking noise on the pavement.

"Turn around", she ordered, sucking in all the air she could find. Her breathing pattern became unsteady, the anxiety messing with her, taking control over her. She swallowed hard, trying her best to regain that control again. Her hands were desperately grasping around her gun, never once thinking about letting go. This was the only thing she could think of doing at the moment.

"On your knees", were the words that followed her first order. In the background she could hear a car pull up. Hearing the sirens she identified the car as Charles. With a loud bang the door was slammed shut, before a figure stood beside her. Slowly she regained her control back, like she had left it behind in the car with her boss.

Yassir turned around, his ice-cold eyes meeting theirs, making a shiver run down her spine. There were no emotions to be found in the suspect's eyes, like it was sucked out of him by an unexplainable force. "Hands up", Charles said, his eyes fixed on Yassir. "Interlock your fingers."

Yassir sunk down to his knees, putting his hands behind his head. Charles made his way towards the suspect, arresting him by putting the handcuffs on his hand before escorting him back to the car while reading him his rights.

She holstered her gun. Now that Charles was there, taking over the situation, she finally let herself take in the surroundings. The neighborhood was familiar, but this street was even more familiar. The brown color of the brick walls, the dirty, grey pavements in front of the old looking town houses. She looked at the people that had gathered around them, her glance settling on two very familiar eyes.

There was a man she hadn't seen in nearly seven months. His hair looked even messier than the last time she saw him, his stubbly beard from back then was still there. The colors of red and blue were lit up by the street lights, showing that he was proudly wearing his West Ham T-shirt. This man that was supposed to be her father. His dark eyes were looking at her and she even thought she could detect some hint of disgust in his eyes, maybe even all over his face. Her dad still hadn't forgiven her for choosing her life, her career over theirs. All he wanted was for her to marry Artan, who would set him up with some job so they'd be set for life. Well, that's what he said.

She swallowed hard, looking at her dad one more time before turning around. She was making the same decision she did several months ago; turning her back on her family. The decision she had been second guessing ever since she made it. She opened the door of the car, getting into the passenger seat before Charles restarted the engine, driving back to the station.

* * *

><p>Charles closed the door of his office, walking through the dark briefing room. He was making his way towards the elevators, when he saw a silhouette sitting on one of the couches in the briefing room. He took a few steps forwards, seeing that Molly Dawes was sitting there with a tablet resting on her lap.<p>

"Still here?", he asked.

She looked up, her brown eyes meeting his. There was something that drew him to her eyes again, that feeling even stronger than he already had when he saw her in the elevator for the first time. "Yeah", she said, a soft smile appearing on her face. "Wanna have another look at the photos of today, see if we missed something."

He leaned against the wall, his leather jacket draped over his arm. "We can do that tomorrow, Dawes", he said softly. "Go home."

She didn't say anything, only simply nodding her head. "You did excellent work today, Dawes", he said. Yes, he was very impressed with her today. She took initiative and they caught one of the suspects.

The soft smile from a few minutes ago made an appearance on her face again. "Thank you, Sir", she said. She opened her mouth slightly before closing it again, hesitation written all over her face. "First time I actually had to use my gun. I hope never to actually fire it", she confessed.

He sat down next to her on the couch, the vulnerability she showed now getting to him, cutting deeper into his heart than he would want. That vulnerability he only saw with his younger sister when he was younger, or with Sam when he told his son that his father and mother were getting a divorce.

"First kill is always going to hunt you", he said. "Stay with you forever."

"Do you remember your first kill, Sir?"

He nodded, putting his jacket next to him, letting it rest on the couch. He folded his hands together, his eyes fixed on hers. "I joined the RAF straight out of high school, was barely 18. It's always easier to fire from the safety of a cockpit than to do it in person."

She was leaning forward, giving his conversation her full attention. "Then when did you have the first kill in person?"

"After two years in the RAF I joined the SAS. I was on a mission when I had my first kill."

"What happened?"

He chuckled slightly at the innocence of her questions. "Can't tell you that, unfortunately, Dawes. It's classified. But-"

They were interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone. He answered it without looking at the caller's ID. "Yeah, hello?"

"Ah, Charles", a voice on the other end said. "Rebecca here. Can you pick up Sam from my parents? They just brought in a patient who needs an emergency surgery, so I'll be running late and can't pick him up."

He sighted, rubbing his temple with his free hand. "Yeah, sure", he said. "I am just leaving HQ."

"Thank you", she said.

"Bye." He didn't wait for her to respond, he simply hung up. There would be a time when they had to talk about this, talk things through, but he wasn't in the mood for it lately.

"Sorry, I've got to go", he said to Molly, grabbing the jacket from the couch and standing up. "Don't stay much longer. Tomorrow is another day." He walked towards the exit, turning one last time to look at this young Constable that was thrown into his life a couple of days ago.

Yes, he was irritated at the decision of the boss' upstairs, but now he was actually started to appreciate her. She brought something else to the team, something new and fresh. But that wasn't the only thing she brought. She brought the same things into his life again. And yes, he needed some new and fresh into his life as well.

"Good night, Dawes", he said.

"Good night, Boss."

* * *

><p>After a night of darkness the city of London was found again by the sun, letting it light up the streets of England's capital. Molly opened the glass door of the department, making her way straight to the desk that she was appointed to on her first day. She draped her jacket across the office chair before taking a seat.<p>

She heard a door open in front of her, followed quickly by his voice: "Good morning, Dawes." She looked up, seeing him standing a few meters in front of her with a letter in his hand. "I hope you slept well."

"I did."

"Because we need all the energy, since I've got a warrant to search Zemeray's house."

Her eyebrows shot up to her hairline momentarily, before returning to their original position. "What?", she exclaimed.

"Yes, don't look too surprised. We are going to look for clues inside the house. It's like playing cluedo." She chuckled at his attempt to be funny, it wasn't working out as well as he must have thought. "What's funny, Dawes?"

"Just you comparing work with cluedo."

Now it was his turn to chuckle. She knew she shouldn't, couldn't think about her boss like that. Not at the moment, anyway. And besides, he would never have some interest in her. He was way out of her league, and she knew it. But that didn't mean she wasn't allowed to look at him, catch a glance when he was frowning his eyebrows when he was looking at the files in front of him, or when he smile lit up his chocolate brown eyes, giving her the idea she had actually gone to heaven.

Their moment was interrupted when Jackie and Smurf entered the briefing room, closely followed by Brains, Fingers and Mansfield. "Alright, you cockwombles, we are going on a road trip."

"Where to, boss?", Mansfield Mike, the weapons expert on the team, who frequently reminded his team mates that he thought he looked like Prince Harry.

"To East Ham, here in London. We've got a warrant to search Zemeray's place", Charles said, running his hand through his curly, brown hair, making her stop thinking about breathing for a moment. He turned around, making his way towards his office while he yelled: "Grab your stuff."

They made their way down towards the garage, where they had parked their cars. With the busy traffic, which always was present on the London roads, delayed their journey to East Ham considerably. It took them half an hour to get to their destination.

"Alright, put your vests on", Charles ordered while he slammed the car door shut. "We don't know what we could find inside."

Molly took a deep breath before she walked towards the trunk, getting her bullet proof vest out of it. She was back in the part of London where she really didn't want to be. It was a coincidence that the suspect of last night ran towards the place where she grew up in, the streets she used to play with the other children. The one place where she had a home, before she threw that all away for her career. Seeing her dad last night, made the pain she had tucked away somewhere, the pain that was caused by her decision six months ago, all come back again like wood would flood back to the surface of the sea.

She jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder, pulling her back to the reality. "Alright, Dawes?"

She nodded. "Yeah, fine."

"Okay, you stay behind. Let us go in first. Enter when we've cleared the place." She simply nodded again, signaling to him that she understood. He made his way towards the entrance, closely followed by the rest of the team. She got the gun out of its holster, also following the team.

The feeling of losing control over her feelings again reappeared in the back of her mind. The same way it did last night when she was following Yassir. Normally, she wasn't afraid when a suspect got aggressive or abusive, but people like Yassir were terrorist. Not simply the criminals who would burgle a fancy townhouse in Notting Hill.

They walked up the stairs, reminding her that she was here a few weeks back with Chris. She shook away the memories of being a street police constable, focusing on the task at hand; arresting Zemeray for his crimes. In front of her she saw Charles kick the door down, his hands firmly on his gun while he yelled: "Police!"

After hearing some thumping inside the house, she heard the word "clear" yelled inside of it. She looked inside the house as far as the open front door could provide. Charles made his way towards her, holstering his gun. "The house is clear", he said. "They're gone."

"What?"

"They've burned half the place down so we couldn't track them."

"Even Bashira?" No, this couldn't be happening right now. The frightened young girl she had met twice in her life was in danger because of her. She was the one that acted on her intel. She shouldn't have done that.

He simply nodded, answering her question which she had hoped wasn't truth. "This is all my fault", she whispered, turning around so he wouldn't see the tears forming in the corner of her eyes. She had put that girl's life in danger, because she wanted nothing more than to help. She wanted to gather enough evidence so that Badrai and Zemeray would be locked up for, not once again interfering with the lives of Bashira and her mother. And now, now she had only made it worse.

"No, it isn't."

"Yes, it is. If I hadn't acted on her intel, she would still be here." Her voice cracked, giving in to the emotions that were boiling inside of her. The emotions she had been holding back for days.

"She gave you that information, knowing that it was dangerous." She looked at him, not entirely convinced by his words. He must have seen the look in her eyes, because he continued: "Molly, I'm telling you it's not your fault."

She sniffled before wiping the wet trails of her tears from her face. This was the first time he actually called her by her first name. She knew she shouldn't look into this, expect much from him, but that didn't mean it felt good to hear him say her name. Because it meant that he was backing her up, like Jackie said he would. "It feels like it is", she confessed.

"We are going to find these people and stop them. Can you do that?" She nodded. "You can't be too emotionally involved. You need to put your feelings away, because I need you 100% by my side."

"I am, Sir."

"Good", he said, a small smile appeared on his face. "Because we _are_ going to find them."

* * *

><p><strong>So, what do you think? A review would be lovely, as always :) <strong>


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